Knocking on Heaven's Door
by LCFC
Summary: Can man control his own destiny?Warning: Character death and spoilers for Houses of the Holy and other S2 episodes


**Knocking on Heaven's Door**

I am, for once, in control of my own destiny.

I sit on the steps of my old home and stare out into the fading sunlight. I am glad that I don't have to make Dean keep his promise to me. I know that he only made that promise because I was so drunk that night he didn't think I would remember. I did remember though and I remember Dean's expression the next morning as I made him repeat, made him reiterate his words. My brother was hurting; even though he tried to hide it; I knew.

I wonder why I chose to come here to do this. It seems a strange and random choice. I barely remember the house and have no early recollections of being here. We came back over three years ago of course, but the family that lived here then, the family that we saved are long gone and the house has fallen into ruin. I lean back and let the cooling rays play across my face. It has been a beautiful day today; one of those days when the sky stayed blue and cloudless and the sun stayed hot and unrelenting. I flick open another button on my shirt and let the warmth embrace me.

A mangy hound dog comes along and sniffs at my hand "I've nothing for you old boy" I whisper, with some regret, scratching behind his ears and watching him pant in approval. I always wanted a dog, but dad said no and Dean said nothing. I remember crying then and Dean putting his arms round me, stroking my hair and explaining, in that easy way of his, that we could barely afford to look after each other, let alone a dog. It was his way of comforting me and I loved him for it. I still wanted a dog though, guess I always have. I pat the hound dog one last time and shoo him away. No one needs to see this; I have to do this alone.

I wonder what Dean will do when he finds me missing and, to be honest, it isn't hard to figure out. He'll do what he did the past two times; he'll panic, he'll ring up his own little network of contacts and then he'll come and get me. I smile a little, well this time little brother has got one over on him, this time I've given Ellen false information, this time I'm in full control of my destiny, I'm the one in the driving seat, not dad, not Dean and not the yellow-eyed demon. It feels good, to be in control, to be able to think and feel for yourself. I shift on the step and watch the sun disappear in a blaze of red and orange fire. Soon, it will have to be soon, before I lose my courage or my mind.

I get the gun out of my pocket and weigh it up in my hands. It is heavy and cold and for a moment I feel a stab of fear. I know that it will be quick but I'm scared it will hurt and, if I'm honest with myself, I'm scared that, once I've done it, I'll go to hell. I feel my stomach lurch and I swallow hard "Dear God" I whisper, not for the first time, "Please watch over me – please watch over your servant here today. I know what I'm doing is wrong – but there is no other way – we both know that" I hope that those words are enough because I do truly believe there is something beyond this life; how could I not? Seeing what I have seen; doing what I have done. Dear God, I'm frightened now and I lift the gun up quickly, eyes darting around, making sure that all is empty, still and quiet.

I don't want to put it in my mouth; always hated the taste of metal and blood, so I put it to my temple and let it rest there for a moment. I close my eyes and clench my jaw, letting my thoughts wander, trying to think about other times, better days; I think of mom, of Jess, of Dean.

"Sammy!" As if I have conjured him up in one of my freaky psychic visions, I hear my brother's voice and I open my eyes; gun still pressed against my temple "Sammy – no". Then he is there beside me, on his knees, pressing his head against my shoulder; hands trembling, eyes wet with tears he won't acknowledge "Sam – come on" he takes the gun from my hand and I am surprised how easy I let it go "Sam – it's not over – come on dude – we still have time – we still have time"

"Dean?" I lean into his touch and realise that I am no longer in charge of my own destiny and that; somehow, God has seen fit to answer my prayers again "Dean?"

"Yeah Sam" he tucks the gun into his jeans and looks at me, eyes a mix of resignation, fear and determination "Lets get out of here"

I let him lift me to my feet; his eyes flickering over our childhood home, his expression unreadable. In the distance I can see the Impala, headlights gleaming, and I realise the car has been more of a home to me than the house behind us. I follow silently, watching the tense set of Dean's shoulders, feeling a strange mixture of frustration, rage and relief.

We get to the car and Dean turns to look at me; turns to study me and I swallow hard, seeing nothing but love in his eyes "Turn around Sammy" he says gently and I do as I am bid, placing my hands on the roof of the Impala, still warm after the heat of the day "Close your eyes" a gentle whisper and the touch of a loving hand on my hair. Seems I might be knocking on heaven's door after all.

**Fin**


End file.
